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Side 40 - tis done, then 'twere well It were done quickly. If the assassination Could trammel up the consequence, and catch With his surcease success; that but this blow Might be the be-all and the end-all here, But here, upon this bank and shoal of time, We'd jump the life to come.
Side 34 - Alas, alas ! Why, all the souls that were, were forfeit once ; And He, that might the vantage best have took, Found out the remedy : how would you be, If He, which is the top of judgment, should But judge you as you are ? O, think on that ; And mercy then will breathe within your lips, Like man new made.
Side 42 - Besides, this Duncan Hath borne his faculties so meek, hath been So clear in his great office, that his virtues Will plead like angels trumpet-tongued against The deep damnation of his taking-off; And pity, like a naked new-born babe, Striding the blast, or heaven's cherubim horsed Upon the sightless couriers of the air, Shall blow the horrid deed in every eye, That tears shall drown the wind.
Side 3 - Tis morn; but scarce yon level sun Can pierce the war-clouds, rolling dun, Where furious Frank and fiery Hun Shout in their sulphurous canopy. The combat deepens. On, ye Brave, Who rush to glory, or the grave! Wave, Munich! all thy banners wave, And charge with all thy chivalry! Few, few shall part, where many meet! The snow shall be their winding-sheet, And every turf beneath their feet Shall be a soldier's sepulchre.
Side 7 - And the stately ships go on To their haven under the hill; But O for the touch of a vanish'd hand, And the sound of a voice that is still ! Break, break, break, At the foot of thy crags, O Sea ! But the tender grace of a day that is dead Will never come back to me.
Side 42 - To know who's fit to feed them; have no house, No family, no care, and therefore mould Tales for men's ears, to bait that sense; or get Kitchen-invention, and some stale receipts To please the belly, and the groin; nor those, With their court dog-tricks, that can fawn and fleer, Make their revenue out of legs02 and faces, Echo my lord, and lick away a moth...
Side 40 - mongst clods and clodpoles, here on earth. I muse, the mystery was not made a science, It is so liberally prof est! almost All the wise world is little else, in nature, But parasites or sub-parasites.
Side 42 - Upon the sightless couriers of the air, Shall blow the horrid deed in every eye, That tears shall drown the wind. I have no spur To prick the sides of my intent, but only Vaulting ambition, which o'erleaps ittelf And falls on the other.
Side 40 - d jump the life to come. But in these cases We still have judgment here ; that we but teach Bloody instructions, which, being taught, return To plague the inventor : This even-handed justice Commends the ingredients of our poisoned chalice To our own lips.